


Wait 1

by Prairie_Grass



Series: Wait [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Derek is a creeper, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Manipulation, Sorry Not Sorry, lalala what is canon, set season 1-2 ish, underage element emphasised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prairie_Grass/pseuds/Prairie_Grass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about Stiles, was that he was so fucking <em>eager to please.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a teeny wee thank you to all the lovely people who have left me comments and messages in the last few weeks which have made me go *\o/* and helped me get through what otherwise has been a pretty rough time in the real world. So thanks! (It's also not beta'd and written at 2am, so it might not be the BEST 'thank you' but W/E I DO WHAT I WANT!) Additional Note: updated Sep 2014 to fix timeline issue.
> 
> **Additional warnings:** I have tagged this as dub-con, but it is pretty freaking close to the non-con line. As in if this was the real world this would totally be over the non-con line because Derek is actively manipulating Stiles and Stiles does not actually give consent. But I didn’t feel like in this fictional world it was quite over that line sooo. There you go. There's also a hint of grooming depending on how you tilt your head, so if that's a trigger you should probably pass on this. Otherwise, enjoy! ^_^;;;

The thing about Stiles, was that he was so fucking _eager to please_.

He was like a ripe fruit. All the best ingredients. Overly-intelligent child with attention-span issues, single busy parent, few friends, dead mother, teachers who despised him despite his smarts because he couldn’t sit still and was too quick to snark back in class.

It didn’t take much.

It started mostly by itself, with just a hell of a lot of eye contact. Stiles could hold a stare like most people couldn’t. Derek could hear Stiles’ heart pounding with fear when he stared him down, but he just hitched his chin up further and kept meeting Derek’s eyes, full of challenge. It was the first thing that made Derek take notice of the kid, actually. It was a delicious blend. Everything about him screamed the kind of prey that Derek wanted beneath his teeth, but if he wasn’t clever and quick enough, might end up gutting him if he tried.

It was addictive; and as Stiles got more used to him – used to Derek being in his room, in his car, in his school – the fear slowly started to recede. Until instead of the sharp tang of terror, Stiles smelled of a lightning edge of _thrill_ whenever Derek looked at him. Stiles liked being noticed. He liked that someone was looking at him.

Which was convenient, because Derek liked to look.

After that it was easy enough to include touch. Derek had always been a physical guy, so it was easy to put his hands all over Stiles, to push and shove at first, but then a protective hand, a restraining arm, a comforting squeeze. Stiles was a lonely kid, he practically had ‘affection starved’ written across his forehead. And as Scott started to spend more time with Allison, he left a gaping hole which Derek was more than happy to start to fill.

_“They’ve been gone for hours. What if something’s happened?”_

_“I’m sure it’s fine, Stiles,” Scott said distractedly, beaming at his phone where he was exchanging yet another text message with his girlfriend._

_Derek placed a hand on the back of Stiles’ neck. “Lydia’s not in any danger, she’ll be in public the whole time. If she hasn’t called in another thirty minutes we’ll text her, okay?” He rubbed his thumb back and forth on Stiles’ nape and the boy slowly relaxed, some of the tension draining out of his shoulders. He looked up at Derek, already more trusting than he should be._

_“Okay.”_

_Derek smiled. It was a while before he moved his hand away._

 

After Derek became the Alpha it only became worse. Much worse. After he slit his Uncle’s throat, he would wake up in the mornings with a raging boner and a burning hunger for getting someone under him. Even several consecutive hours of jerking off wouldn’t help – getting distracted while making breakfast, and doing the laundry, and working out, to rut against the furniture or his hand until his knot swelled and he spilled recklessly. He knew who he wanted wrapped around that knot, and ‘ _too young_ ’ didn’t seem relevant.

The months passed, and it didn’t get better, even after his pack had grown by several (problematic) teenagers. If anything the craving had just gotten worse. He just wanted to stick his dick into something (some _one_ ) and have them whine until he came. He wouldn’t fuck his pack, but he needed to do something about it.

Out for a run one day, trying to escape the incessant grinding need, he somehow found himself passing by the back of the Stilinski property. Both the Sheriff and his son were downstairs watching television, but Stiles’ window was open.

It only took a moment for Derek to silently swing up into the boy’s room.

Derek dragged in a heavy breath as he landed. The room was thick with boy-smell. With _Stiles_ smell. Derek slinked onto the bed and shoved his face into Stiles’ pillow, pulling in the scent of him. His shift crawled over his bones and he rubbed against the pillowcase, letting his scent penetrate into the fabric.

One ear out for the sounds of the humans below, Derek opened up his fly and pulled his dick out. Despite the excessive number of times he’d already jerked it that day, the scent of human boy, and one his brain recognised as something vaguely pack-like, something vaguely _his_ , was more than enough to have him spurting against the mattress, his knot tender and hot beneath his fingers. He groaned, pulling his hand away and letting himself hump against the sheets. Smearing his come everywhere.

Afterwards, Derek spread out his jizz through the sheets and pulled up the blankets before silently slipping back out the way he came.

The next day, Stiles still smelled faintly of him. It made Derek’s fangs itch and his lips spread open into an uncontrollable grin. Even his pack seemed to subconsciously notice. Deferring to their Alpha’s mate in small ways, handing over food without being asked, clustering protectively around him, giving him the best seat on the couch…The best of them all was Scott, usually prickly and defensive even on the best of days, now he was minutely giving Derek the respect an Alpha should have, tiny bends of his neck, showing Derek his back, listening when Derek spoke. The boys really hadn’t been lying when they said they were a package deal, and now that Stiles was displaying the signs of being claimed, (whether he knew it or not) Scott was accepting whoever Stiles had chosen to be his Alpha.

Derek could practically howl with delight.

That night he couldn’t hold back anymore, he pressed Stiles against the counter in his kitchen where the boy had been doing the dishes, took the plate from his startled hands and turned him, leant in and kissed him.

Stiles made a noise like a small bird, and Derek nipped at his lips until he opened them, letting Derek’s tongue invade that wet mouth which had been haunting his dreams.

Stiles’ hands fluttered, nervous and confused against Derek’s chest as he tentatively started to respond to Derek’s kiss, Derek hid a smile and pushed his thigh between Stiles’, starting up a slow but persistent rhythm.

“Mmph!” Stiles squawked against Derek’s mouth, “Derek, what—”

Derek pulled away just enough that he could look at Stiles’ face – flushed skin, lust-darkened eyes and red, bruised mouth. He leant in harder against Stiles’ cock where it was chubbing up in his pants. “Feels great, doesn’t it?” Derek whispered. Stiles just made a high-pitched, confused sort of noise and Derek smiled, leaning in to mouth at the edge of Stiles’ jaw. “Fuck you taste good,” he growled.

Mindful of the TV providing useful cover-noise in the next room, Derek snuck his hand down the front of Stiles’ pants. Stiles yelped and Derek covered his mouth with his own lips again, driving his tongue into that wet heat. Stiles’ cock was long, silken and slender under Derek’s fingers, and it didn’t take more than a few strokes to get pre-come beading at the tip, Stiles hips making little reluctant jerks up into Derek. Derek moaned and yanked his hand out of Stiles’ pants for as long as it took him to whip down his own zipper and pull out his dick, lining up both of their cocks and tugging on them roughly, letting the copious amount of his own precome mix with Stiles’, getting both of them messy, joining their scents. Derek could smell Stiles’ arousal kick up, and the boy broke away from Derek’s mouth to look down at where both of their cocks were fucking up into Derek’s fist. Stiles brought a shaking hand down, and as his thumb brushed the head of Derek’s dick Derek muffled a curse and bit down on the lobe of Stiles’ ear. Stiles swore and his dick throbbed and he came, shooting jizz up Derek’s t-shirt and over his hand. It was more than enough for Derek to shove his hips hard into Stiles and come himself, groaning as his seed spilled all over his mate.

Derek rested his head against Stiles’ shoulder, letting his breath waft against Stiles’ neck as he came down from his orgasm. He could hear Stiles’ heart start to tick up faster and faster so he wrapped his clean hand gently around Stiles’ throat, leaning up to meet his confused eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, “It’s okay.” He kissed Stiles again, gently, and Stiles’ lips followed his, one beat behind and automatic.

“Derek,” Stiles said as they broke apart, “what—”

“Holy shit, guys, get a room!”

Stiles leapt nearly a foot in the air as Isaac came into the kitchen.

Derek leant in closer to Stiles so that the boy’s naked junk wouldn’t be visible. “It’s my house, Isaac, they’re all my rooms.”

Isaac huffed and rolled his eyes, grabbing another soda from the fridge, all of two feet away from where Derek had Stiles pinned.

“Isaac, do you mind!?” Stiles squeaked.

“Oh do _I_ mind? You’re the ones getting your freak on in the middle of the kitchen, but do _I_ mind?” He scoffed and left the room, calling back, “You guys damn well better not clean up in the sink!”

Derek smirked and moved to rinse his hands under the faucet, just because he was an asshole like that sometimes.

When he turned back Stiles still had this gobsmacked sort of look on his face, and Derek let out a soft laugh. He took Stiles by the shoulders and directed him out the door. “Come on, they’re just starting the original Godzilla.”

Once out in the other room, Derek pushed Stiles down to sit next to Scott, then sat down on his other side. He watched from the corner of his eye as Scott gave Stiles a startled look, then his mouth slipped into a smirk. Scott whispered under the sound of the TV, “Congrats bro!”

Stiles looked like he wasn’t sure what expression to make with his face. “...Um, thanks?”

Derek smiled. He put his arm over Stiles’ shoulders and tugged him in closer to his side.

Across the room Lydia raised an eyebrow, and Erica shook her head, before both of them turned back to the movie.

It took a long time for Stiles to relax, but Derek was patient. He could wait.

 

\--

If you want to come hang out with me and my clearly filthy mind, I am [prairie_grass](http://prairie-grass.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!


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